Take Me Away

Olive Charles has had a hard life. She lost her twin sister and father in an accident when she was young, and her new step-dad abuses her. What happens when she meets a blonde Irish boy who changes her life forever?

4. Chapter 3 - Let's Go

The next morning I woke up to the faint sound of rain. I rolled from my back to my side and looked out the window. The tree branches were swaying like crazy, letting me know that it was windy. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as I pulled my sheets and blanket up to my chin. I was so comfortable, and it killed me to know I had to get up soon. I didn’t even know what time it was, and right now I really didn’t care.

I had closed my eyes for not even five minutes when my door opened. Someone stepped in quickly and shut the door behind them. My back was facing the person who had entered, and my eyes were still shut. I pretended to be asleep. I was pretty sure I knew exactly who it was, and I was not happy that they had come in.

I could hear his footsteps get louder as they approached my bed. He started breathing heavily, and I could immediately smell the alcohol on his breath. I had the tingly feeling in my nose that I get before I start to cry. But I couldn’t cry now. I was pretending to be asleep. Maybe if he thought I was asleep he would leave.

He placed his hand on my shoulder and started rubbing it gently. He finally cleared his throat and spoke. “Liv, let’s go." He pushed the blankets off of me and shook my shoulder to wake me up.

I stayed motionless. I did not want to go with him. I guess my fake sleeping trick didn’t work, because the next thing I knew, he had rolled me onto my back and placed one arm under my neck, and the other under my knees. At this point I knew he was going to take me no matter what, so I opened my eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine. I hope you slept well,” he said in a husky voice. He was so drunk.

“Please put me down. Please,” I whined. He was the last person I wanted to see right now.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could,” he responded, lifting me up higher. “You know I can’t.” All I could smell was the alcohol. It was so strong.

I had no response to that. I knew I wasn’t going to win, so what was the point in fighting it? I just let him carry me out of my room and down the hall. I was used to it by now. He opened his bedroom door and stepped inside. At this point, I had let a few tears fall. As used to this as I was, I still hated it more than anything.

He layed me down on the bed and went back over to the door and shut it. I heard the lock click. He turned around to face me. A big grin appeared on his face. I decided to speak up.

“Why do you do this? Why do yo do this to me?” I asked as tears started falling down my face at a constant rate.

“I don’t have an answer for you,” he responded as he made his way back to the bed. He reached his hand down and brushed it against my cheek. “You’re beautiful, Olive.”

“Stop, please. I don’t want this!” I spoke up. I wasn’t yelling, but it was louder than before. I knew I could be as loud as I wanted because he only did this when we were home alone.

Instead of responding, he took his hand back and unbuckled his belt. That sound, along with the locking of the door are the sounds I hate the most. They bring back these horrible memories.

It hadn't even started yet, and I just wanted it to be over already. He had taken his belt off and put it on the floor. His eyes darted from his belt on the ground, to my eyes, and then to my shorts. He nodded his head as to take them off. This caused me to pull my legs to my chest and wrap my arms around my knees.

"Olive," he said, placing his hand on my arm. "Do you really want this to happen the hard way?"

I started crying even harder as I shook my head back and forth. I managed to let out a quiet response. "No. I don't want it to happen at all." I pushed his hand off.

"You know it has to," he mumbled. His vision had moved back to my eyes.

I didn't move.

"Olive. Stop being difficult." His voice was louder now.

I didn't move.

He flared his nostrils and ran his hand through his brown hair. "OLIVE. DO WHAT I SAY. NOW." He was yelling now. I had upset him. That wasn't what I had intended on doing.

"Make me," were the only two words I responded.

"I will." He pushed my knees down violently. Him and I both knew he would win, so I didn't bother fighting. I had fought him so many times before and it had never done anything.

He traced the length of my legs with his index finger. It sent chills up my spine. When he reached my ankle, he went to my waist and tugged at the elastic wasteband of my purple cheerleading shorts. I whined as he pulled them down, one inch at a time.

When he reached my knees he pulled my shorts the rest of the way off quickly. He bunched them up and threw them across the room.

He went back to himself and removed his jeans. He threw them with my shorts. He pulled his boxers down and took them off aswell. He stepped out of them this time instead of throwing them with the shorts and jeans. I was now looking at a lower naked half of him.

He used to ask me to take my underwear off and I always refused. After I would fight him on it, he always ended up taking them off. If he's gonna force me into doing this, he's going to do all the work. I want to make it as miserable for him as I can. I'm so sick of it, and there's nothing I can do.

He slid my underwear down and off. There was silence the whole time. Now both of us were naked on the bottom half. He crawled onto the bed and straddled me. He started breathing heavy again.